Softer To Me
by Kenobi
Summary: Logan Finds Out A Little About His Past


Softer To Me   
Kenobi 

Author's Note:   
The Elements in this story are not quite the plot that is contained in the original comic book. I am well aware of the details of Logan's past and the other characters in this story. This story is just something that I thought of after watching the movie. 

Disclaimer:   
I do not have the priviledge of owning these characters. 

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Logan stood still taking in a deep breath. The old shack was definately familiar to him. The toxic smell, the shades that his surrounds held tickled his memory. It was like experiencing something in reality that took place in a dream. And this place was a dream, a dream that haunted him every night for almost fifteen years. This is where it all began. 

It had taken him some time to find the entrance to the pile of concrete and metal, and a little while longer to find the stairway to the underground lair where he now stood. 

At first glance it looked like a small room, but with his heightened senses he could discern things seen that others would not. In the midst of what looked like pure metal walls to his left and right where actually doors leading to somewhere. Having made a mental note of the openings he proceeded to inspect what was directly ahead. A computer console of some sort was built into the wall just below a window that overlooked the room that the doors obviously lead to. 

He took cautious steps toward the glass. The apartment beneath him was dark, but his superior eyesight could make out the objects in it. The same objects that haunted him. 

Logan blinked. His vision flickered in and out of reality suddenly. Flashing before his eyes were the same scenes played out in his nightmares. He closed his eyes tightly while shaking his head, yet the images showed no mercy. He observed his own body being open in more detail than ever. He saw the unfeeling eyes of the doctors, the tools used. 

His hand shot out to the console for support, his other gripping his temple in an attempt to stop the pain. His breath intensified with the figures. Violent rage and frustration gripped him at the inability to stop the agonizing pictures. 

A yell escaped his lips, followed shortly by his fist that landed into the window in a last attempt to cease the images. Tiny shards of glass erupted from the solid form causing a shower of debris to break once and then shatter loudly below. For the moment after the only sound heard was the echoes of the glass and the mutants deep breaths. 

His mind was blank. Nothing. His savage emotions tamed for the time being. He was only left with confusion and questions. Turning his back and leaning against the desk he sank to the cold, dusty floor. He pondered if he was in a position to actually enter the room below considering his reaction to just looking at it._ What could have terrified me so much from that room...? _He wasn't sure if he wanted to find out. 

Logan never esteemed himself an emotional man, he was enclosed, solitary. It was not normal for him to be so careless with his emotions. He was frustrated. Frustrated at his lack of control, his weakness for being frightened of a room and the pain that throbbed in his fist. 

Sighing heavily he lifted his hand to inspect the damage with little worry. Nothing his 'gift ' couldn't handle. He watched as the torn skin mended and stretched involuntarily. Little blood escaped his healing factor. 

_This is the price I must pay for being who I am,_ he thought to himself. The penalty for being born different was that he carried the label 'lab rat'. Something to study. His wiped the remaining smears of blood that rested over now perfect skin. He stared idly at his hand. 

"It's a curse.." He whispered aloud..._Or was it?_ He thought while considering the many times it saved his life as well as others. 

He didn't have time to meditate on the question any longer. His enhanced senses where brought to life. His sense of smell was tickled by several different sensations that contrasted with the aged, musty aroma the old base held. 

He whispered a quiet curse directed at himself for not being able to track the scent from the beginning. He was up on his feet in an instant all his other senses alert. There were obviously a few of them judging from the several distinct odors. And they were close enough now that there would have been no way for his superior mutation to overlook. If he had been more vigilant he would have detected them when he first stepped in. 

Behind him he heard a slight noise followed by a gust of wind against the back of his neck. Before he had a chance to simply glance in that direction the 'something' hit him. He was thrown to the floor from the impact of what felt like a kick. Whoever it was then proceeded to plant his foot right in the aching area where the first blow was. He felt more pressure put on his back and pictured his attacker resting the remainder part of his weight on his knee. 

Logan tried flipping over on his back to give himself a chance to fight back, but nothing happened. He couldn't move. To his right he heard one of the well hidden doors open. 

"Good work, Quicksilver," a voice told the person to whom the foot belonged. A voice he knew too well by now. 

"Well, well, well if it isn't one of Charles' little warriors. He must be very attentive to my actions to have tracked me this quick." 

"Charlie didn't send me. I came on my own," Logan sneered. "What are you doing here Magneto?" 

Logan searched his own mind for reasons he would be here, and how the crazy mutant got out of the nut-house so soon. He had only met the man twice before, both times under negative circumstances. But what he did know about him was that he was a little on the insane side, and a bit barbaric in his methods for mutant rights. 

"I was just about to ask you the same thing." 

Logan chuckled lightly for no apparent reason. Maybe it was the uncanny irony of the whole situation or he just laughed to annoy his captor. 

"What's it to you?" He asked. 

The older man crouched down to get a better look at him. Logan lay with his left cheek stuck firmly against the floor. The only item in his vision was the others boots. 

"Don't you think it's quite a coincidence that you and I happen to be in the same abandoned building and that we maybe even looking for the same thing," he paused. "This rat whole you see around you was once an operating mutant facility... Do you know what they did here?" Magneto muttered almost tenderly but with a prominent hint of mockery. 

"They took unfortunate souls like yourself and twisted them. Using their God-given gifts for their own benefit. They used them as tools for war." He said slowly and with a hidden passion behind it. "I'm assuming you are here to find out where it all started?" 

There was a long silence before it was broken by the one who started it. "Well, my boy?" He prodded in order to get a reply. 

Logan was sick of his talk. Even though Magneto obviously detested such places he couldn't help but feel ridiculed. 

"Go to Hell," he stated simply. 

The other sighed heavily. 

He heard some shuffling and then felt a dull pain in his head. All that followed was darkness. 

------- 

Logan slowly open his eyes to be welcome with an extensive headache. His eyes flickered around his surroundings for some hint familiarity. He was positioned uncomfortably with his cheek firmly stuck to some cold surface, and the rest of his body seated in a chair he assumed. Bracing his hands he lifted his head upright. He blinked rapidly while wiping the accumulated saliva from his face and the table. 

He stopped. There was someone else in the room with him. A stench he knew too well. 

"Good morning," Magneto said. 

Logan gave the other man a look that would have shot projectiles if he had that mutation. "Where am I, what is this all about?" He demanded 

"I brought you to my place for questioning, but I believe I already know what I want to know," he said while lifting a file so Logan could see it. "You came to that facility looking for this. Information on yourself that I found on a disk," He stopped to study Logan who was doing a good job of hiding his surprise. 

"If you are curious, I was at that pile of rubble looking for information on 'new recruits'. While going through the many files I found out quite a bit about you, maybe even more then you know about yourself. I took all the information concerning you and put it in this file," He lightly tapped the object with his finger. 

"If you honestly think I am going to join your clan of clowns you are wastin' your breath. I'm a loner," Logan spat out. 

"You got me all wrong, my boy, I am simply offering you the answers you've been searching for all this time," He stared right into Logan's eyes as he said those words, and surprisingly it sounded like me meant it. 

"Throughout history the general majority of man had a tendency to try and dispose of those who didn't quite fit in," the older man began while gazing out the window. "The Christians, the American Indians...so many suffered because they were..." He closed his eyes and taking in a deep breath spat out a word that ruined lives, "Different." 

"Save the speech for politics, Magneto. What does this have to do with me?" 

Opening his eyes he shifted his position to look at the younger man seated at the simple table. His dark eyes scowling at the older man's light blue ones. The mutant returned the his glare with a confident smile. 

"You and I, we are a lot alike.." He started while beginning to walk about the small room. 

"If trying to kill innocents is on your list of 'alikes' I think you're terribly mistaken" Logan interrupted again. 

The other eyed him patiently before continuing. Resuming his pacing he proceeded. 

"When I was a somewhat younger man I met a beautiful young woman. She was many years younger than I, but her demeanor well advanced mine. She knew I was a mutant the moment we met because she herself was one also. That was one of her abilities she could sense other mutants and feel others emotions whether they be a mutant or not." He paused his speech and took a breath, gathering his thoughts and memories. 

"We married not long after we met. It was rushed I admit, and I offer no excuse. At that point in my life I was fascinated with the amount of other mutants that were surfacing. By then I was already good friends with a very talented mutant I must admit, Charles Xavier. I believe you know him," He said meeting Logan's glaring eyes momentarily. 

"Charles and I worked together for many years trading information and contacting others like ourselves. Our goal was to make a better future for mutants. We were both ignorant and blind to believe that this could be achieved peacefully. As time passed and I began to see the dramas that played out in others lives, I started to understand that a 'peaceful solution' wasn't possible." His voice had turned serious and bitter the more he spoke about this false harmony. 

He blinked away the thought and smiled slightly before pursuing the story. "Charles and I lived a great distance from each other so often I would be away from my home and my wife. She would at times come with me, though that changed when she became pregnant. I soon became a father to a son, he also was a mutant. He looked like any other child when he was born.. He looked like his mother, dark hair and striking hazel-green eyes. His mutation didn't appear until he was about two or three, however I never had the privilege of witnessing it. I was so amazed that he had developed his powers so quickly.." He trailed off in thought. Closing his eyes he stopped his movement and took a long, deep breath. 

" My wife didn't do anything...my son was innocent..." 

Logan stared at his face, no emotion touched his expressions as he spoke of the past. Logan pondered if he had ever told anyone what he was telling him. Of course Xavier probably knew, he was close friends with Magneto at the time. Logan's own facial expression remained the same. 

"I was gone when 'they' came and took my wife and child away from me...I returned to find my home in shambles my old life was taken with my family. I spent years searching for them, but who ever took them covered their tracks well..." He spoke the words with obvious grief and regret, but the hate in his words overpowered every other feeling. "..It took another major tragedy- after numerous others- in my life to make me understand that in this world...mutants will never be excepted..never, unless a drastic step it to be taken." 

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two. Logan sat still wondering why the man was telling him all this that would be considered extremely private if the tables were turned. He voiced his curiosity. 

"So what does this have to do with me.." Logan repeated, his words gravely and low in his ears. 

Magneto shifted his gaze from the wall to Logan. His face again exposing no sensitivity only giving the other mutant a long, hard look. His eyes appeared to be studying him. The unusual quiet ended when the senior mutant moved his hand to the folder on the other side of the table. 

"I believe you will find the similarities in here." He stated giving the object a firm push. The folder slid smoothly into the other's hands. Logan's eyes moved quickly to the papers then back up at Magneto finding him staring at him again. They locked gazes for a few lingering seconds before the elder mutant departed. 

Logan watched him go, his thoughts centering around the stare that Magneto had given him. During their previous encounters the mad-man seemed to enjoy being able to control him. His manipulation of metal objects made Logan an easy foe to counter. The look in his eyes before meant nothing. But there was something that was different this time. Not the expression of an enemy, but of.. sadness. 

Logan stroked the file beneath his fingers. A printed out copy of the information found in the wreckage that Charles located for him. 

He didn't know what to make of the tale that Magneto had told him and what he had to do with it, but he did read this file before Logan had a chance to. Here under his palm were the answers he had been searching for all these years. What if he turned out to be someone he didn't like or his own life was a worse drama then the one he had listened to. 

Taking a breath he brought the folder closer and opened it. There where different groups of papers section off with staples. Leafing through the pile he found different records and reports 

"One at a time Logan.." He whispered to himself. 

The first set of records was entitled: Thornton Orphanage . Which was then followed by an address in the upper left hand corner. 

Orphanage? Did his parents die when he was young or was he abandoned because he was a mutant..? He pushed the questions aside and read on: 

Name: Logan 

Age: 3 

Status: Mutant 

Mutant? They were aware of his mutations at such a young age? 

This set of records must have been the basic facts about himself. He read about the date he was issued and useless facts about the facility. Then something caught his eye at the bottom of the page. 

*Note: Mutant is not to be released from the orphanage. Yearly visits from sources are to be expected. 

Behind the basic information page were several reports. Picking one, Logan sped read through the page picking out pacific words and phases. Logan confirmed that these were writings of his behavior and 'mutation progress.' 

' The young mutant is hostile and emotional from the first day... Attacked guardian, mutation manifested in attack.' 

Logan stopped reading and blinked. A memory flashed before him. He remembered being frightened and desperate for someone, and he was clutching something. A toy perhaps a stuffed animal or something. He shook his head in frustration. The scene had come and gone. 

He ran his fingers through his thick black hair before resuming his reading. Logan vainly examined the few pages that lacked precision in their content. Neglected in details that concerned him personally. Growing impatient he skimmed to the last page. Scanning the paragraphs, one word caught his eye. 

'Escaped' 

Reading through the last paragraph he concluded that he must of left the orphanage before his appointed time. Logan smiled to himself, that sounds more like him. 

Gently laying the sheets down he leaned back in his seat to piece together what all he had just learned. 

Apparently he had been abandoned as a child whether it be his parents choice or not was unknown. From the information gathered in the reports before he had evidently spent the remainder of his childhood and the beginning of his teen years in that orphanage where he had been studied like a lab rat by an organization only interested in turning him into a weapon. The younger Logan was likely aware of this secret group's plans and ran away before it would happen. 

He sighed heavily rubbing his hand over his face. Closing his eyes he reflected on the first years of his life, scrounging for an image, a familiar feeling, something to confirm that what he read was indeed true. But there was nothing. 

Again issuing his fingers through the sides of his hair he sat up and gripped the last portion. 

In the upper corner of the first page a series of distorted letters and numbers replaced the area where the information regarding the name and location of the paper's origin should have been. Below the computer gibberish was a detailed account of himself no doubt facts about him that were collected during the years that they analyzed him. Before advancing through the data a small sheet fell out of the bundle in his hand landing in his lap. 

Taking a hold of the small document he turned it over and examined its context. It was a crude copy of a birth certificate, HIS birth certificate 

Date Filed: October 23, 1959 

Child Name: Logan James Lensherr 

So Logan was his real name, that was somewhat of a relief. But Lensherr... wasn't that Magneto's name..? 

Sex: Male 

Date of Birth: October 14, 1959 

Logan briefly smiled, he knew his birth date now, if in fact this was an authentic copy. 

Mother Maiden Name: Eveline Leah 

Father Name: Eric Lensherr 

_What? What kind of a joke was this? Is Magneto trying to tell me that I was the boy in his story? That I am his son? _

Logan quickly looked to the other sheet of records. The same name starring back at him. 

Mutant Identity: Logan J. Lensherr 

Logan stopped a minute allowing this new revelation to sink in. If these papers were indeed true and were not altered when reopened after all these years then that would mean that that Magneto, the insane mutant who tried to kill him and the others, was his father... 

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_ But the world is hard   
It's cruel and I wish it could be...   
Softer to me _

-M. Thiessen 

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Author: Again I stress that this story is just something I came up with in my twisted mind. I am aware of the reality of the X-men characters. No 'Your an Idiot' reviews please.....(wait a min..I am an Idiot..) 

- Kenobi 


End file.
